


Heart-shaped Cake

by flipfloppandas



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Bottom Trunks Briefs, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, M/M, Mild Language, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:08:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27358546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipfloppandas/pseuds/flipfloppandas
Summary: It's Goten's birthday, and of course, all he really likes is food and sex. Considering that Trunks is a terrible cook, what else could he possibly give Goten as a present?
Relationships: Trunks Briefs/Son Goten
Kudos: 25





	Heart-shaped Cake

**Author's Note:**

> I have decided to move all of my olds fanfics from Fanfiction.net onto here. Instead of stressing myself out revising even more old fics, I have decided to post them as they were originally written. This story was written in 2015 and does not reflect my current writing ability.

Trunks did not need to tell you that he was a smart boy. It was a fact, like how grass was green and dragon balls were orange. He was not exactly on the front cover of big name magazines, but he _was_ famous enough that you could ask almost any random person and they would tell you the same thing. He could tell you the name of every leader who had ever been in power of any civilization since Mesopotamian times in chronological order; he could speak over five different languages fluently, and he of course he could also do calculus mentally—quickly at that. That does not even begin to explain the capacities of his mind, but it is enough to prove that yes, Trunks was a very smart boy.

Despite his intelligence (and overall superior existence) Trunks was by no means perfect. He, as every person should, was fully aware of his flaws—has long since come to terms with them: he had a temper; he was not a very good artist; he lied often; he hated writing essays, and could be very competitive at times. These were simply facts.

It was also a fact that, so conveniently excluded from the list, he was not a very good cook.

Fully aware of this, he admits that he was not quite sure what to expect when he put the cake batter into the oven. He had not anticipated anything _too_ bad of course—it would not have been logical. Despite never _legitimately_ touching a stove, baking a vanilla _Pillsbury Funfetti_ birthday cake (Goten's favorite) really could not have been _that_ difficult. If you follow the directions exactly as they are written on the box, then the cake should come out at _least_ satisfactory. Trunks knew better than to assume that his cake would look like the masterpiece on the front of the box (no food looked that way naturally), but he felt it safe to assume that it would at _least_ come out exponentially decent. It seemed that, unfortunately, his hypothesis was to be wrong.

Yes, Trunks has long since accepted the fact that he was a terrible cook.

But damn he didn't think he was _this_ terrible.

"How did this happen?" he could not help but ask himself in disbelief as he stared down at the atrocity that was before him. It was like a ridiculous cliché episode of some television sitcom, where a character tried to cook but the food ended up being unrealistically—and utterly predictably—terrible.

This monstrosity was unrealistically—and quite _un_ predictably—terrible. The supposed-to-be white cake was crusted dark brown, the rainbow chips burned to a blackened crisp. The bottom of the still-hot pan was completely burned black, the top barely able to contain the contents that were trying desperately to spill over the edge. The smell of burning sugar was so overwhelming that he nearly gagged.

 _And_ to add icing to the cake (yes, yes, how funny), once he shoved a toothpick past the crusted top-layer, he discovered that the inside was still a bit gooey—under-cooked.

"Oh—for fuck's sake!" Trunks growled. There was no way in hell he'd give this too Goten.

Snarling, Trunks snatched the tray from the counter, and tossed it into the air. Once it had reached a desirable height of airborne-ness, he held up his palm and shot one controlled blast of energy. Trunks was so satisfied with his work that he almost laughed evilly as the particles of dust rained down around him.

His satisfaction was only short-lived, however. What the fuck was he supposed to do now?

He was a bit ashamed to admit that he did not really have any other gift to give Goten. In his defense, he had not really expected he would need a back-up plan, because he had not expected the outcome of him fucking up a simple, _practically premade_ birthday cake. Possibly a poor-made decision on his part, but honestly, it was not like he had many options to begin with.

What could he possibly give him anyway? Goten was a simple person—he had already claimed on more than one occasion that he already had anything he could think of genuinely wanting (aside from the occasional video game or clothing of course). If there was some type of 'mystery gift' that Goten oh so desperately desired, he most likely would have told it a romantic partner or something. 

Not that any person existed as far as Trunks was concerned, but the theory still remained. Goten would probably think it strange to ask his male best friend to get him such an intimate gift, even given their closeness. Still, despite their plans to go out to a party that night so Goten could have his first (legal) drink, Trunks still felt obligated to do _something_ for him—Goten was turning twenty, after all, and he was his closest friend.

Lost for what to go with, Trunks had contemplated getting him some type of expensive video game, but quickly decided against it. It was cheesy, he supposed, but he wanted his gift to be special, and that could not happen when there was probably about three other 'close friends' who would get him the same thing.

Trunks was better than video games.

So he went with food, because he could guarantee that no one else was going to bake Goten a whole goddamn cake, and Goten would always love food.

But now that was ruined, and he had nothing.

He was fucked, and he could think of nothing that would help him. He had been carefully vague about what his gift was when he had spoken to the birthday Son the morning prior, but he had willingly let slip the fact that his surprise was something tasty to eat. Unfortunately, given that the birthday boy was due to arrive within twenty minutes—there was no time to cook something worth making. As said before, Goten was not too interested in material objects at this point in his life, so that was not even a back-up plan worth entertaining. As far as Trunks had observed, the only things Goten ever seemed interested in was (apparently as most saiyans) food and sex.

...

...

Hmm.

...

...

Could that work?

"No, no, just fucking _no_ ," Trunks muttered to himself, his cheeks tinting pink. He hadn't been serious; it was only a thought that could not help itself from shooting through his mind. There was no way he'd ever _seriously_ consider the alternative of... _giving_ himself to Goten as birthday present. That wasn't just ridiculous, but absurd. Despite the knowledge that Goten was an out and proud bisexual (Trunks of course being the first person made aware), and also the fact Trunks himself was also a member of the Gayborhood (not nearly as openly, of course), he had always felt that that was a line that should never be crossed—for obvious reasons, of course.

Still, even though he obviously was not serious, _if_ he was... it _would_ be the more or less perfect solution. It was a present that Goten would definitely enjoy (given he seemed to crave it every hour of the day). Also, his hint would not have been a total lie, given that sexually-speaking, one's body could been seen as something to eat if one's mind was unclean enough.

Trunks' felt his face grow warm, and he was thankful that the house was empty so no one could accidentally see it. He was not going to actually do that of course. There is no way he'd _really_ offer sex to his best friend as a birthday present. That was all types wrong on all types of levels.

... But he could not help but wonder. There was nothing wrong with wondering of course—it was not the first time he had ever been curious. How could one just... _not_ be curious?

(Besides, if Goten was ever actually given the choice between sprinkled cake and sex, his choice would be quite obvious.)

If for some reason Trunks actually ever did do this... what would it be like? How would Goten hold him? Where would he touch him? Would those long, pale fingers (that Trunks could not help but notice) stay hidden in his hair? Or perhaps they would stay on his chest... Or maybe they would go lower—past his thighs, to that spot where Trunks has never cared enough to let another person touch?

Would they do it in this very kitchen? If so, how would Goten want to do him? Hypothetically speaking, he would get to choose of course, since it was his birthday. Where would the birthday boy pick: against the wall; on the kitchen table? Would he bend him over a counter?

Would they use food?

Trunks groaned and tugged on his hair as punishment because no, that's not helping at all.

It was not as if Trunks had never thought about sex involving Goten (you couldn't know him longer than twenty minutes _without_ wondering about it), but to be thinking things of this nature after nearly contemplating turning them into a _reality_ made it all the more... naughty.

No, 'embarrassing' is probably a better word. Any reality that involved him losing his virginity to Goten would be an embarrassing one.

"Reality? Oh please," Trunks huffed to himself. "Don't be stupid. I'm not having sex with Goten."

... But maybe he could? If he was thinking about it seriously (which he _wasn't_ ), he could indeed consider the fact that Goten had one-night stands all the time, so having another one for his birthday would not exactly be something new to him.

"Yes, because fucking his childhood friend is something he does _all_ the time."

Of course, this could also be Trunks' chance to finally get laid. It was not as if this was information that Trunks just went about telling, but many people would be surprised by his status of purity, especially since he was not only twenty-one years old, but also one of the world's most eligible bachelors. 

It was embarrassing, yes, but he just didn't have anyone in his life that he truly wanted to do that with... aside from Goten, he supposed, if he'd ever actually legitimately think about going there. Even now, going through the list of everyone he knew, there was no one he who would've been a better option than him. He trusted Goten, and he was the most important person in his life that wasn't a relative, and as far as Trunks was concerned, that meant a lot.

Besides, word on the street (by street, he meant the few friends he had made at Goten's university) was that Goten was good in bed, so it's not like Trunks should have any regrets in that aspect. As for Goten, well, despite Trunks' hatred for his weird coloring and his large forehead, he knew that most people thought him to be quite easy on the eyes, so the birthday boy shouldn't (hopefully) have any regrets in that regard as well. Trunks doubted he would—Goten complimented his looks all the time.

(He complimented him in a totally non-flirty way of course, because Goten definitely did _not_ flirt with him—that just did not happen.)

Wait, wait, fucking wait, because somewhere along the line, his curiosity had turned into internal debating, which meant he was seriously considering it. That was not okay. He could not have sex with Goten. There were just somethings one could not do, and having sex with the best friend that made him feel uncomfortable at times was just not allowed. It did not matter that he trusted Goten, or that Goten was attractive enough that he found himself stopping to stare at him for no other reason than to stare, or that it was Goten's birthday and this is definitely something he would _really_ want...

No.

... But maybe.

"Oh gods," Trunks moaned, burying his head in his hands because dammit he was considering it, and the more he did, the less of an awful idea it seemed like.

Except it was, it was a _terrible_ idea. Having sex with his best friend could not result in anything good, hence why he didn't do it.

_Goten probably would not make as big a deal out of it as I am._

But Goten is just Goten, and therefore does not count. A dragon could lay an egg on his forehead and he would barely bat an eyelash. Fucking his best friend was probably the last thing to shake Goten up.

_But I'm shaken up, and I just want to know why._

He needed to know why because it was irritating him to no end. The more he thought of it, the more he realized he was blowing it out of proportion. So what if he fucked Goten? Goten fucked all the time—fucking someone he knew on a more personal level could not be _that_ outrageous. It was not like it would affect their relationship—Goten was not the type to end a friendship over something like this.

So then what the hell was his problem?

But when he really thought about it, he knew what his problem was. His problem was that he was saying he just couldn't possibly ever actually sleep with Goten... when he really could.

_I could do it. I could have sex with Goten._

He supposed that the thing that freaked him out was that he actually kind of wanted to...

"Oh my gods," Trunks groaned again to himself because... he was going to do it.

Wow. He had not been expecting this outcome.

And now that he has accepted it, a whole new bundle of nerves hit him, because oh my shit he might actually have sex tonight and he doesn't have a clue what to do. What the hell does he do?!

Maybe he had to do nothing? As embarrassing as it was to think, Goten was the one with the experience—there was no doubt _he_ would know what to do. Even still, didn't he have to... prepare, or something?

Shower; he should definitely shower, and with a check to his watch, he determined that he had around fifteen minutes—just enough time to get a quick shower and change into something more... appropriate.

What does one wear to getting anally screwed?

He could figure out later, he supposed. Right now, he had to summon a robot to clean up the kitchen, and get his ass in a shower, because while Trunks doubted that they would actually have sex... he would be prepared if they did.

With the act in mind, he made his way to leave the kitchen, only to be slowed down by bumping into the handle of a drawer. He made to quickly push it closed when something brightly-colored unfortunately caught his eye.

Something in the back of his mind told him that he should get a move on; that whatever _thing_ that was in the drawer would not benefit him in the least. He, of course, ignored this voice, simply because of the fact that he was Trunks Brief. It was in his nature to be nosy. You can't be a scientist (or at least the child of a scientist) without being just the _least_ bit curious.

So he opened the drawer and looked, and after multiple moments spent in internal, painful debate, he concluded that it could in fact, aid him.

* * *

"Hey Trunks! Where you at?"

_I can't believe I did this..._

"In the kitchen... and learn some proper grammar!" Trunks called back, his heart pounding. He tried, but it was impossible to will away the heat from his face. He was too aware of himself, of his nakedness, of his whole stupid idea, especially as he could hear Goten's footsteps growing closer.

"Well _excuse_ me for possessing a regional lexicon! Are we leaving or— _oh my god._ "

This was then followed by the clatter created by Goten's cellphone falling to the floor.

Trunks, dressed in only an apron and a smile, forced himself to say: "Happy birthday, Goten."

The apron was pink and—like an apron tended to be when nothing was worn underneath it— _very_ revealing. The bib, barely covering his upper body, was in the shape of a heart, and was held up by two thick strings wrapped up to his neck, crossing each other behind his back to connect to the bow that held up the skirt. The skirt itself was slightly frilly, but just tight enough to accentuate the dips and curves he did not naturally possess.

There was no way around it—this was a woman's apron. A specialized woman's apron, that was probably made especially for the purpose that Trunks was using it for. No, it was not a possibility—it was a fact. No one in this house ever had, nor ever will, cook. The only use of this apron was of course, to pull off the whole 'naked apron' thing. 

Ten minutes ago, it had made a lot of sense. Putting into consideration that Trunks was supposed to be playing the role of 'something good to eat', what would be a better place to have sex than in a kitchen? And if one was too do such activities in a kitchen, than it would only make more sense to do it in an apron. Yes, that made a lot of sense.

The other reason that Trunks put on the apron was because it was blunt. How else was Trunks supposed to imply that birthday sex was in order? Trunks just did not possess the strength to come out and say it with words. So the apron worked, because Goten would literally have to be brain-damaged to not understand the implication. Yes, that also made a lot of sense.

... Or it did, at least. Trunks didn't feel sexy, he felt exposed. He didn't feel amusing, he felt ridiculous. Again, he's not quite sure why he expected anything different considering he was wearing a woman's apron that did _not_ just come out of nowhere. The only explanation was that at some point, his mother had worn this for his father... or was even left over from his grandmother...

_Nope. I'm not thinking about it; I'm not thinking about it; I'm not thinking about it because that's foul._

Of course, the third reason he was wearing the apron was because of the extra route it opened up. If Goten wasn't interested, then Trunks could easily play off wearing nothing but a woman's pink apron as a birthday joke and they could get on with their night. Maybe Goten would find it so funny that it could be a present in itself.

Yeah...

Dammit.

"You know Goten, it's rude to stare." _Please just laugh at me so I can put clothes on._

Maybe Goten needed a little help? Should he smile and begin to laugh hysterically? Or should he... smile and beckon him _closer_? His plan had been to judge Goten's facial expression. He seemed neither amused or aroused, just... shocked.

Then, the most amazing thing happened. Goten, after standing for a solid thirty seconds completely still, frantically turned away, but not quickly enough to hide the red that invaded his face.

He also was not quick enough to hide the action of his hand flying up to cover his nose.

Trunks is not sure how it was possible, but his already embarrassed-blush grew about ten-times worse. His brow twitched painfully as he balled up his fists, wanting more than anything to have the most moronic person on this planet just a bit closer to him so he could punch the remaining brain cells left out of his head. "You—you _pervert_!"

"I'm sorry!" Goten's replied, his voice muffled. "Just... what... _why_ are you...?"

Trunks huffed, and crossed his arms tight over his chest. "It's your birthday present, obviously, you moron."

"My birthday present?" Goten said turning back, his eyes wide.

"Yes, that's what I just said, idiot."

"Wait; wait; wait are you saying that... that you're giving yourself to me... as a birthday present?"

 _Oh right._ Trunks' anger diminished just as quickly as it came as he remembered that he was indeed, standing in front of Goten quite naked, with a very specific (and stupid, stupid, _stupid_ ) reason.

The arm's that were crossed over his chest shifted in discomfort. That was not exactly a smart move, because his moving caused the pink fabric to rub against his bare skin, making his cheeks flush darker. He ignored this however, and gave his best casual laugh. "Sure, why not?"

Goten still stared at him, his eyes still wide, and Trunks was beginning to internally panic. This was the part where Goten would laugh, or smile, or blink, or fucking _something_. Staring at him in less than a dress was _not_ one of the options given!

Trunks shifted on his feet, trying not to let Goten's open stare bother him as much as it was. There was just something about having _Goten_ be the one to see him this way that had him feeling a whole different type of unsettled. Whether this was a good unsettled or a bad unsettled he did not know... which was stupid because there was no such thing as a _good_ unsettled!

All he knows is that right now he is feeling much regret for ever doing this.

... He's also feeling something else, but he isn't sure he wants to try and identify what it is right now.

Trunks was just about to say another thing about staring, when Goten suddenly spoke. "Are you serious?"

 _Yes_.

"Uh..." Trunks froze. He hadn't really been expecting that. Again, another stupid error he had made. How many had that been today? Maybe something was wrong with him—he wasn't usually this incompetent. Trunks always made sure to analyze every situation, to gather all details and pick the most logical outcome—that was just the way he worked.

... So then why did he mess up the birthday cake? Why did he decide to go with this alternative? Why did he put on this apron? Why didn't he already think of Goten responding this way?

What should he say? Whatever it was, it needed to be said quickly. Goten was waiting, his stupid face painted with genuine curiosity. Any chances of this being played off as a joke were rapidly diminishing, and now he was left to deal with things he hadn't really expected he'd have too, and very much does not want to.

Taking a deep breath, Trunks looked up at him and said: "What if I was?"

"Are you?" Goten replied so quickly it was almost as if he already expected such a response.

Trunks was way past any form of uncomfortable, and was pleased when his voice only relayed his annoyance. " _What_ if I was?"

"Well then I would probably make use of my birthday gift—it would be a waste not too," Goten said as if that were perfectly normal, walking closer. He stopped next to the kitchen table and leaned over it; still managing to be close enough to make Trunks heart beat faster. "But I need to know that you're serious. I don't want to get my hopes up, you know."

"So," it's then that Trunks realized just how close Goten had managed to get. His breath smelled like fresh mints. "Are you serious?"

"I—" Trunks cleared his throat, refusing to look away from the dark eyes that stared into his as he wills himself to say: "Yes, I'm serious... if this is what you want."

He said it. He really actually said it. They are really about to—

"Well, then you should make me something."

Trunks blinked. "Huh?"

"Make me something," Goten repeated simply, as if his request made all the sense in the world.

 _What in the hell... That wasn't a total mood killer or anything._ "... Why?"

"Well the point of an apron is to cook, isn't it?"

Trunks narrowed his eyes in annoyance. "Goten, if I knew how to cook we wouldn't even be having this conversation."

"Well you know how to cut things up, right? I'm in the mood for strawberries—you have some right?"

Trunks had no choice but to nod. They always had strawberries, and Goten—the dick—knew that.

"Fine, I'll cut up some strawberries, but that is _it_ , you hear?"

Goten smiled. "That's all I need.

Trunks huffed and moved to turn around, but then suddenly remembers something and is able to quickly stop himself just in time, heat somehow still managing to rush to his face.

"What is it?" Goten questions, cocking his head to the side like the adorable idiot he was.

Gods this was embarrassing. "The back is open," Trunks replied, clearing his throat.

Goten looked at him blankly for a moment (almost as if he did not understand), before the heat was back on his pale face, and his hand once again over his nose.

Trunks cursed himself and his skin. What was the point of being tanned if it didn't cover your blushes? "Come on, Goten! I know you've seen enough bodies to last you two lifetimes. Why is my nakedness such a big deal?"

"It's just well..." Goten sniffs and rubs his face. "It's _you_."

Trunks narrowed his eyes. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"It's not! It's good, really good!" Goten was quick to say. "It's just... I never thought I'd ever get to see you like this. It's having a really embarrassing effect on me. And this apron..." The embarrassed-look was suddenly gone from Goten's face, and a smile appeared. "It's like you're my own little housewife."

"You want to say that again?"

"Um, no, I guess not... please put your fist down..."

Trunks did, crossing his arms tightly over his chest, and turning away in irritation.

"Besides, the point _is_ for me to see you right?" Goten tried to remedy. "Are you getting shy on me?"

Well, Trunks wouldn't be quick to use the word 'shy'... but 'nervous', definitely.

Still, Goten did not need any more confirmation than he already had, so Trunks huffed and before he could stop himself, turned away. He took the necessary steps that were needed to reach the refrigerator steadily, before pulling it open. 

His heart began to pound as he squatted down briefly to reach into the drawer that held the fruits. He pulled out the plastic carton full of strawberries, righted himself, pushed the door closed, and slid over to the counter. He opened the bag and tipped it to dump out a couple of berries onto his pristine counter, before closing it again and setting it aside.

And the whole time he's trembling, because he can feel Goten behind him, his eyes boring into him.

His hand shook as he reached for a knife out of the block. His whole body trembled as he slid the knife down twice over a single strawberry—cutting off the leaf and slicing it into a perfect half. He tried to control the involuntary shudders of his body, but his efforts were useless, not with the way Goten was watching him—it was almost as if he was already touching him. He wanted for Goten to look away, or at least be able to cover himself—anything to stop the burn that such a gaze caused.

Yet at the same time... he didn't want the burn to leave. The heat from Goten's gaze warmed his body deliciously—sensitized it so much that even the slight chill of the room affected him. He could practically _feel_ Goten's hands on him already. Gods he felt so hot...

The grip that suddenly came upon his hip and the chest upon his back startled him so much that he gasped and dropped the knife. He heard the knife bounce off the counter and onto the floor, but he knew better than to try and pick it up.

Goten leaned in close, his voice brushing near his ear. "I want a strawberry; I can't wait anymore."

Trunks was not stupid—he knew exactly what Goten meant by that. Still, he said nothing, only formed his fingers around a strawberry slice, and brought it up to Goten's mouth. He felt the pull of Goten accepting the fruit, and then felt the motions of Goten's jaw as he chewed. Goten did not ask for another slice once the first was swallowed, and instead used the hand holding his hip to pull him closer and lay a kiss on his cheek.

Trunks stiffened as a wave of heat coursed through him.

Goten pulled his lips away and leaned down to kiss his shoulder before asking lowly. "Are you sure?"

"Why wouldn't I be sure?"

"I don't think you understand how badly I want you."

Trunks does not contemplate how he feels about such a statement.

"It's fine." He wasn't scared—nervous, but not scared. He wanted this. He definitely wanted this...

Had he always wanted it this badly?

"You seem tense."

"Well wouldn't you be if you were about to have someone's dick shoved up your ass?" Trunks hadn't really meant to say that out loud, but whatever, it's the truth.

Goten laughed. "Yeah, I guess so. It helps if you relax."

So this was actually happening. He wanted this, so he would do as Goten said and relax—anything to keep the Son from stopping. He wouldn't dream of letting Goten stop, and that might just be a bit of a problem, or at least, connected to one.

If one had to be identified, he would have to say that the issue is just how much he _wanted_ this. It was natural to desire sex, but to want it this much? To have his mind completely clouded with thoughts of the man behind him; to want to be held and touched in the most intimate possible—by his best friend, no less—was not... logical.

And it wasn't just the physical aspect. Trunks wanted Goten to _know_ how special this was. He wanted Goten to acknowledge that of all the people in this world, he was spending his birthday with _him_ , doing this with _him_. There was no one else who did or would have offered Goten such a thing for his birthday; there was no one else who would dress in a silly pink apron for him; there was no one else who would give him so much. Simply reminding himself made Trunks... _feel_ things, things he should not be feeling.

And that kind of terrified him.

It just didn't make sense. Why would he be feeling such a way? Why was this so... special to him? He had never thought of Goten in this manner _seriously_ before—was the prospect of actually having sex with him making him suddenly have a change of heart? 

No, that was silly, because Trunks did not believe that sex and love coincided. One did not need to have sex to prove that they loved someone, and likewise, having sex with someone did not mean they were in love, and Trunks _wasn't_ in love with Goten, he just... wanted to know why he wanted to be _close_ to Goten like this so badly. He wanted to know why he wanted Goten to want to be this close to him too.

"I'm fine as long as you don't go crazy." Despite his mixed thoughts, he would not stop. Never mind the fact that he wanted to do this, he had already told himself he would go through with this, and Trunks was not a man to go back on his word. It wasn't Goten's fault that he was having such conflicting thoughts, after all.

Goten nodded. "Of course, just tell me if you don't like it. Not that you should have to. I'm a lot better at this than you're giving me credit for."

Trunks rolled his eyes, even though there was no way Goten could see it. He left his outward annoyance at that, because Goten was kissing his shoulder, dragging his lips to the back of his neck. His lips pressed against his skin sweetly, moving lower to the ground with each kiss. Trunks held back shudders as Goten kissed the parts of his back that the apron straps did not cover. He bit down on his lip when Goten reached the small of his back, to which he gave a final hard, long kiss, no doubt leaving a mark.

He was marking him. This was happening, and Goten was marking him all over. He was going to wake up tomorrow, and they were still going to be there.

Big hands stroked his hips, gripping his pelvic bones tightly. Goten shifted his fingers to pull down the lining of the pink skirt so he could drag his kisses along the sensitive skin of his hips, before suddenly pulling away. It isn't for long though, because all he's doing is twisting his body around, situating himself more comfortably on the tiled-floor before leaning back to bury his head deeper between Trunks' thighs.

Trunks bit his lip, ignoring the outline of Goten's head underneath the puffed-out skirt while he tried not to think about how good it feels to have someone's face down there.

Goten apparently had a thing for kissing, because he was assaulting Trunks' thighs and groin in the same manner that he had the rest of his body. Trunks was squirming—because he couldn't help it—but Goten held him in place, attacking him until the elder didn't think he could take such teasing anymore, before pressing his lips against the side of his dick.

Trunks had suspected it happening, but he still jumped. He shuddered and manages to speak all while Goten's tongue was darting out and licking lines up from his base to his head.

"W-wait, shouldn't I be doing that to you? It's _your_ birthday."

Goten pulled the skirt from his head and looked up at him. "Do you not like it?"

"I do, but... all you've done is touch me." He also wanted to voice his speculations about how Goten _had_ to be getting bored with such one-sided treatment, but was afraid the Son would take it as _him_ being the one bored instead, which he most certainly was not.

Goten seemed to think about it, before responding with, "well isn't your body the gift? Shut up and let me enjoy it."

"Well since you asked so nicely," Trunks huffed.

Goten's eyes practically sparkled from his laughter. He broke the contact, however, as he grabbed the underside of Trunks' leg, and positioned it so that the crook of his knee sat atop his broad shoulder. His face was hidden by the skirt again, but Trunks did not need to see it in order to know that his lips were wrapped around his cock.

Trunks' hand gripped the counter in front of him tightly, while the other he used to bit down on hard, muffling his groan. Trunks decides that he likes blowjobs, especially since Goten's mouth was hot, and could swallow more than half of him. Trunks could feel his hips twitch every time Goten's tongue rubbed against him; could feel his leg clench with every bob of his. He can't believe he went twenty-one years without this.

It was over all too quickly though, because suddenly Goten was popping out from under the skirt, his dark eyes lidded, his lips wet. "I want to fuck you. Now."

Trunks had heard him, but he was still surprised when he was suddenly bent over the counter he had just been holding onto, his ass practically on display for Goten (and anyone, really) to get as much of an eyeful as he wanted. Trunks flushed, and was almost thankful for the position since Goten could not see it.

"You have lube, right?" Goten questioned, his hand stroking the small of Trunks' back.

Trunks nodded, ignoring the way the cold edge of the counter dug into his hips, reached his arm out far to reach the brown jar he placed there not long ago—the one he'd made sure to bring from the bathroom on his way back down here.

"Coconut oil, huh?" Goten sniffed. "Smells good."

He shifted uncomfortable as Goten flipped open the cap, no doubt pouring the liquid onto his fingers, the scent of coconut filling the air. When Trunks felt a cold, wet finger prodding against him, anticipated it, but still had to force himself to relax. It seemed that he relaxed so much that he almost did not notice it sliding inside of him until it was _inside_ of him.

There was a _finger_ inside of him. It felt... _weird_.

It felt even weirder when he felt it _moving inside of him_. It was so weird that he wasn't even sure he liked it.

"Relax, Trunks," Goten said as he pulled his finger out to add two.

Trunks bit down on his lip, obeying Goten's command while he ran his hands restlessly through his hair. It didn't hurt, but he _was_ painfully aware of the two fingers stretching him open. He could feel as each bit of Goten's fingers slid into him, further and further. Oil slid down his thighs, leaving warm trails on its way to the floor.

It was when Goten was knuckles deep that he felt it. A spark of pleasure from deep inside of him that Goten's fingers were just long enough to reach. Trunks bit down harder on his lip, rocking slowly back and forth with the motion.

"I'm going put in another, okay?" Goten announces.

"Okay," Trunks nodded. "Okay."

And Goten did just that—pulling his fingers all the way out, only to push back in with the third. Again, there was no pain, but certainly discomfort.

While all of this was going on, Trunks found himself thinking: did Goten really spend all this time preparing his male partners? Probably, seeing as how dicks weren't exactly meant to fit in such a place, it was necessary. Even still, it seemed so _time-consuming_. Not that Trunks wasn't enjoying himself, but Goten had to be getting impatient.

"Come on already, Goten," Trunks said, when he was sure that both of them had had enough.

"Are you sure? Don't lie," Goten pressed.

Trunks rolled his eyes. "I'm not lying, now come on!"

"Alright, alright. Geez, Trunks," Goten responded, amusement in his voice as his fingers slipped wetly out. "If you want me that badly you can just say so."

Trunks balled up his fists. "Be glad it's your birthday, you dick."

"Oh I'm _very_ glad it's my birthday," Goten assured. The tone of his voice however, left Trunks feeling speechless, so he said nothing. Instead, he focused on the sound of Goten unzipping his zipper, and the rustling of him pulling his pants and underwear down to his thighs. Trunks didn't hear much for a moment, until the sound of crackling filled the air.

A condom. Trunks felt stupid for having forgot.

He wondered for a moment why Goten had such a thing on him, and if he really did carry one wherever he went, before it clicked and he feels stupid for a second time. Their plans _had_ been to go to the club and it _was_ his birthday... it shouldn't be surprising that he was hoping to get lucky tonight.

Except it was, because Trunks can't help but think about how there could have been someone else in his place—maybe even right now.

Trunks felt his chest pang, and he almost slapped himself, mainly because he didn't know why it did. Now was not the time to have idiotic thoughts. Now was the time to relax and be as... _relaxed_ as possible.

"Hey, are you okay?" Goten questioned, and Trunks wanted to kick himself.

"Yes, I'm fine. Are you doing it or what?"

"Don't rush me," Goten said. Out the corner of his eye he saw Goten take the jar of coconut oil again, and from the squelching sounds he heard, he concluded that the Son was coating his latex-covered self with extra oil.

Sex-crazed, but still cautious—seemed about right.

Trunks braced himself when he felt Goten's dry hand on his cheek and spreading it apart, but all the nerves he's had from earlier are gone. He's nervous yes, mainly because you can't have someone stick their genitalia inside of you for the first time without feeling nervous, but all the other nerves are replaced by news ones, that really have nothing to do with what's happening right now. They have to do with what could have happened, what Goten could be doing with someone else, and why he doesn't quite like it.

_Stop thinking about, stop thinking about it..._

And he does, because Goten is pushing inside of him. He doesn't think at all really, until Goten is all the way inside, and then he groans.

Goten didn't talk much, just asked if he was okay, and if it was okay for him to move, and Trunks answered him the same both times. Goten's hips were just barely grinding against him, and the weirdness that Trunks had been feeling was diminishing with it. Replacing it was stings of pleasure, until Goten moved faster and it was just pleasure.

"Come on, Goten," Trunks urged because it was not fast enough yet.

The Son obliged him. Both of his hands fell to his hips, one still slick with oil. Goten's hips pressed forward with more purpose, and the sounds that their bodies made were much louder.

"Come on, Goten!" Trunks demanded, even though he was moaning already.

Goten again obeyed, his hands leaving his hips in favor of gripping his shoulders. The hands pulled him back to meet each pound of his hips, stabbing Trunks' pleasure spot so hard that it almost hurt. Almost wasn't enough to make him want to stop.

It did have him screaming out Goten's name, not unlike a wanton whore, though. Yes, even though Goten probably could not go this wild with just anybody, he can see why someone would say he was a good fuck.

Trunks was so far gone that he almost cursed at Goten for pulling out. The birthday boy did not seem to notice how his life was about to become endangered—he was too busy grabbing Trunks' legs and flipping him over, his back flat against the counter, and his lower half hanging off the edge.

Trunks moaned as Goten used one hand to nudge his leg to the side, while the other held the underside of his knee up and out of his way as he pushed in again—much quicker and easier than the first time—and immediately set back to the same harsh pace as before.

Trunks was practically screaming now and he didn't even try to hide it, his hand pressing back against the wall to keep his head from bumping into it. He tried to keep his eyes open; tried his best to watch the Son—his best friend, who an hour ago he never would have seriously considered doing this with—who was slamming into him, to keep their eyes on each other, but it was hard.

Not that the look in Goten's eyes was the issue because, intense as it was, he probably reflected it himself. It was rather that the feelings his body was feeling was making him very much want to roll his eyes up into the back of his head.

And he did just that, all while Goten groaned and gripped Trunks' legs so tightly they were sure to bruise.

He was surprised by how suddenly he was coming, but there was nothing to do about it now except ride it out. He was not alone though, because Goten stilled, and just as quickly as his body stiffened, it relaxed, collapsing on top of him just as he pulled his calming body part out of him.

They stayed like that for a while, Trunks catching his breath enough that he was not afraid of passing out when Goten stated: "God, I need to sit down."

Trunks nodded, and began to shift himself into a position that would prevent him from crashing rather ungracefully to the floor. It seemed that his efforts would not be necessary though, because Goten's arms were wrapping tight around him, and lifting him off the counter as he stood upright. Trunks fumbled, hooking his arms around Goten's neck so as to establish balance, grunting out in surprise. Goten walked backwards, stepping until he made contact with one of the kitchen chairs, which he plopped heavily into.

Trunks grunted again from the less than gentle treatment, and was about to make his displeasure known, before he decided he was too spent to do so and sighed. He doubted Goten would care all that much, given the way he buried his face in his shoulder, and kept his arms tight around him as if Trunks actually had the energy to get up.

Accepting defeat, Trunks relaxed against him, his body still feeling hot all over.

They stayed that way for the next several minutes. Once his body had settled as best it could, it did not take long for Trunks to feel more and more awkward. He understands that it might be a bit silly—given that he just had sex like three minutes ago—but it was a bit embarrassing to be sitting on your best friends lap while half-naked in a soiled pink apron and sticky in more than one place.

Moments later, he felt Goten's head lift off his shoulders, and his arms loosen just enough for Trunks to lean back and get an eyeful of that happy and sated face.

"I wish you'd stop looking at me like that. It's weird," Trunks said.

"Sorry," the Son replied, "still basking in the fact that you just gave me your virginity as a birthday present."

Yes, because every twenty-one year old virgin just _loved_ to be reminded of it. "Are you trying to piss me off?"

Goten threw back his head and laughed, and the sound of it was so pleasant that Trunks smiled before he could stop himself. Goten always looked his best when he was laughing.

But Trunks pointedly didn't think that because that would've been a stupid thought to have right now.

Goten's laughter had barely subsided when a loud, growling noise filled the room, which was followed by more laughter, and a rub of the back of his head. "Sorry. You said you were cooking so I didn't eat anything. Weren't you going to make me a cake or something? I could really use some cake. I was kind of looking forward to it."

Trunks narrowed his eyes. "Are you saying you would have preferred a cake?"

"Fuck no," Goten shook his head. "I've wanted this gift since I was like fourteen—I doubt there is anything else in the world I'd rather have. I was just saying because I could really use some cake right now. Sex makes me hungry."

"Well, if a homemade cake was what you wanted, then it appears that you're out of luck." Did premade cake batter out of a box count as homemade?

"So I take it that this," Goten gestured to the disheveled apron, "was your backup plan?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

Goten hummed. "Then I'm glad you're such a fuck-up in the kitchen. This, is the best birthday present I've ever gotten."

"It damn well better be!" Trunks exclaimed, and Goten laughed again.

So what now? Trunks was not exactly an expert in post-post-sex. Were they still going to go to the club? It wasn't late, at least not for a Friday, so it was possible. Trunks didn't really want to go, though. He wasn't tired per say, but he was not exactly jumping to leave the house. Drinks and loud music and _other people_ were so far from the things he wanted right now it wasn't even funny.

... But what _did_ he want? That was a good question. He was not quite how to answer, and he was not sure he wanted too. It seemed that he was starting to want things he shouldn't, and he was not quite sure how to feel about that.

_Gods, things are about to get awkward._

Or maybe not, because Goten was stretching, all while suddenly saying, "Would I be considered presumptuous if I said I wanted to take you upstairs for more? I mean, it _is_ still my birthday, after all."

Trunks was shocked, genuinely shocked, because Goten wanted to do this _again_?

_Well duh, why wouldn't he?_

And before Trunks could fuck himself up more with his over-thinking, he said: "Considering that it is your birthday—and that you successfully used presumptuous in a sentence—I suppose it would be alright."

Goten didn't come up with a witty reply like Trunks was expecting him too, but instead kissed him. Trunks froze, but Goten seemed not to notice, moving his lips against him just like he'd done to the rest of his body earlier.

It was when Goten's tongue was in his mouth that he finally responded, wrapping his arms tightly around him while pushing back with his own tongue. The kiss surprised him, but he didn't stop, nor did he think stupid thoughts about how Goten probably kisses other people like this all the time and he _would_ be if Trunks hadn't fucked up his birthday cake, or how he felt about that. Those thoughts were stupid, pointless, and standing in the way of him getting more dick, so he didn't think them. He doesn't need them right now.

He gasped when Goten stood, but it was swallowed into his mouth. He was annoyed, because he was twenty-one fucking years old and was being carried to bed like a bride on her wedding night, but he said nothing. Instead, he let Goten carry him around, mainly because he couldn't speak with Goten's tongue down his throat, but also because it was his birthday, and why shouldn't he get to carry someone around on his birthday?

(He also might kind of like it too, but Goten didn't need to know that and Trunks didn't need to acknowledge it, so there.)

* * *

When Trunks woke up the next morning it was too the sun blaring harshly through the window. He's disoriented for a moment, and it takes several moments for two things to become apparent to him.

The first being pretty much every muscle below his belt-line ached.

The second being the side of the bed next to him was empty.

Trunks pushed himself up, grimacing at his aching muscles. He supposed it would have killed Goten to take it a little easy.

He supposed it would have killed Goten to spend the night too.

Trunks shook his head and stretched his arms high over his head, causing the t-shirt he had changed into last night to ride up, exposing the boxers he also donned. When his muscles are properly stretched, he dropped his arms back down to the bed and chews on his bottom lip, which he's surprised he hadn't bitten through last night.

He had totally had sex yesterday, and last night... and once again after that, and if his body was not a testament to that, than the crumpled, soiled pink apron discarded carelessly on his bedroom floor was.

It was a bad idea.

He had _known_ it was a bad idea.

But he had done it anyway, and thus deserved the shitty-ness he was feeling.

He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around his drawn-up knee.

What did Goten think? Was this as big of a deal for Goten as it was for him?

Obviously not, because he'd still be here if it was.

He felt his chest tighten, and wishes it wouldn't because this was how it was supposed to be. It wasn't supposed to mean anything. It was supposed to be Goten getting laid and Trunks finally dissing the virgin title. It wasn't supposed to affect their relationship, and in reality it probably hadn't.

It appeared that somewhere along the way, Trunks was hoping it had changed _something_ , and that was a problem. Somewhere in the mix, something changed. When he thought back to last night, to the way that Goten looked at him, the way Goten kissed him, the way Goten held him... he thinks maybe he can see why he would have thought that something was different between them...

Even still, he was smarter than that. _He's_ always been smarter than that. He's always been smart enough to know that Goten probably did the same thing with countless people, and didn't think twice about it.

So why did it hurt?

It wasn't supposed to turn out like this, not for him. It wasn't even supposed to have _happened_.

But it did.

Trunks bit on his lip harder and clenched his fists, because he was hurt and still he didn't know why. He was also angry, so he focused on that, even though he really shouldn't have anything to be angry about.

_I get that this was just a one-time thing and didn't mean anything but dammit you could have at least stayed until I woke up!_

Yes, he supposed that was a good enough thing to be angry about. He hadn't really expected Goten to leave, and now things are going to be awkward between them, and Trunks is going to be upset even though he shouldn't be, and sooner or later he's going to have to act like he doesn't care anymore and 'get over it' and—

Trunks' thoughts stopped because his bedroom door was opening—and he panicked a little because no one was supposed to be home except for him until he looked up properly and there he was, standing halfway through the doorway, still pushing the door out of his way. It was then that he noticed Trunks, and he blinked in surprise as their eyes met, and Trunks feels like an idiot because really, why would he have left?

"Oh, you're up. Cool." Goten kicked the door shut. "Sorry, I was dying of hunger so I got food. I know it isn't nearly enough for us to eat but I figured that it was enough to hold us off until you're ready to get up and find real food, and it's still kind of close enough to my birthday to qualify. Oh, and I hope the shape doesn't freak you out. I swear it was all they had."

Trunks looked down, because he was only just now noticing the contents that Goten was carrying. In one hand was a grey carton that held two brown cups of coffee, still secreting steam from the lid. In the other he held a red box that clearly was not big enough to hold any amount of food that would sustain their appetites—especially not the both of them. With a glance over the top, he could see through the plastic that it was a pink cake in the shape of a heart, despite it being nowhere near Valentine's Day.

He could not see through the creamy pink icing with colorful sprinkles, but with one look at the tag he learned that it was vanilla cake with rainbow chips mixed in.

Trunks found himself laughing, and finally, he knew why.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for the shifting tenses. I only recently realized I was doing it.


End file.
